


Glass Walls

by orphan_account



Series: Set, Spike! [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, High School, High school drama AU, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Volleyball AU, lance is a good friend, little bit of klangst, well in this he's a little more than a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:39:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7948267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance is training for their team's next match against the Galra. Then when Keith intervene's in the middle of his practice, he finds himself stuck in a position of moral questionability. And Lance finds himself debating internally what is the right answer, Keith's extensive health is in his hands- and he is more afraid than he's ever been before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Che1seaLovesYouAll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Che1seaLovesYouAll/gifts).



> Gift for Che1seaLovesYouAll !!! This is going to be a mini series as well! While not exactly in the same fic, there will be multiple parts (probably having no order whatsoever :'V) This was super fun to write and I can't wait to write more in the very near future! Hope y'all enjoy!

Lance reared forward, his legs stung as he dug into the ground- sweating palms clasped in a death grip as he swung upward. The sting of the ball coming into contact with his forearms sent chills through his entire body as he scrambled back to his feet as Pidge launched another ball over the net. He pressed himself forward, using his knee pads to slide across the slick gym floor as he smacked the ball with the flat of his wrist- it soared over the net and hit just inside the outline of the other side of the court.

 

“Woo!” Lance wheezes, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand before placing his hands on his hips with a satisfied grin, “Look at that! I think that’s the most kills i've ever done!” He spins on his heel- his arms swung out wide as he basked in his own imaginary victory. Pidge rolled their eyes, pushing their rounded glasses back up their nose with an annoyed grunt- muttering something indecent about Lance's  _ ‘vanity’ _ before slipping off the court.

 

“And the crowd goes wiiiild!” Lance calls out through cupped hands, “Lance Mcclain takes another victory for the team, way better than his lame teammate Keith Kogane! Woooo! Victory for team Voltron.” Lance poses awkwardly, pouting his lips the way Keith always does when he’s brooding, “Oh, Lance. I never realized you were so much better than me.” He mocked Keith’s tone and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, “I’ve just realized how madly in lo-”

 

“ _ Lance _ ,” A bored voice emanates from the doorway that makes Lance freeze mid-victory pose,  _ fuck _  “What are you doing?” Lance coughs, letting his arms drop to his sides as he spun to look at the devil himself disguised as a hot but unbearable guy named  _ Keith _ . Lance’s face was beet red, his tongue nervously skittering over his lips as he crosses his arms. 

 

“Well, I was practicing kicking G-Galra’s ass, ya know?” Lance drabbles nervously- unconsciously wringing his hands as Keith raises an eyebrow and pries himself from the door. He was dressed in full team uniform with a net bag of volleyballs slung over his shoulder. He drops the bag unceremoniously by the bleachers.

 

“So explain to me,” Keith hums as he ties his shoes- double knot as usual, not that Lance watched him tie his shoes or anything… “How dancing around the court and yelling how lame I am is considered  _ practicing _ ?” Lance flowers with a scowl, his fingers digging into his biceps.

 

“T -ypical you wouldn’t appreciate the sanctity of a good victory dance.”  He says in a sing song voice, Keith rolls his eyes as he plucks a ball from the bag. Lance huffs, “Hey! I don’t know if you noticed but I’m kinda practicing here!”

 

“And?” Keith props the ball on his hip with one eyebrow raised, “We’re a  _ team _ , it’s not just you competing against the Galra you know.” Lance opened his mouth in the hopes of making one of his famous witty retorts, only a pained whine slips past his lips as he relizes Keith wasn’t exactly  _ wrong _ .

“I really fucking hate it when you’re right, you know.” Lance groans. 

 

“Oh- can you say that again?” Keith leans forward and cups a hand over his ear, “I don’t know if I quite heard you, repeat that?” Lance crinkled his nose and tossed his volley ball into the air, smacking it as hard as he could with the flat of his palm. Keith dodged the speeding ball with amazing grace and it made Lance want to scream at just how  _ effortless _ he made it look. 

 

“Stop being an asshole Keith, we’re supposed to be practicing volleyball- not practicing ‘ _ how to be an absolute dick to Lance 101’. _ ” Keith snorts at the comment, Lance flushes at the  _ definitely not fucking adorable _ noise. Keith walks to stand beside Lance, a half smile stretching across his lips. 

 

“I was thinking maybe some of those ‘ _ kill drills _ ’ Shiro had us try?” Keith suggests, Lance shrugs muttering a small ‘ _ whatever’  _ before moving to stand in front of Keith. The kill drill was really basic but all the while useful drill. The layout was simple, one of the players was to underhand serve the ball into the air- immediately all players including the one that served the ball would drop to the ground into a pushup position, before popping back up to hit the ball before it makes contact with the ground- or before the other player hit it. 

 

“Lance, you ready?” Keith asks, Lance hums in affirmation and gets in a ready position. Keith balanced the ball on his hand before swinging his other hand below it, the ball soared upward. Lance had the upperhand and immediately dropped to the ground followed by Keith. The abrupt contact with the ground sent that familiar stinging sensation up Lance’s arms. He hissed and shoved his body back upward- it was always awkward due to his long limbs. He jumps to his feet, sticking his arms out for balance and frantically searching for the ball.

 

Keith was already running towards it (how the actual  _ fuck _ ), Lance sprints after him with new determination. Keith always brought out the best player in him, ruthless and ready to fight to any extent possible to win. He lunges forward, diving below Keith and bumping the ball into the air, his body hurt like hell as it smacked onto the floor- with the added benefactor of Keith accidently kicking him directly in the gut. It was the small victories, really. 

 

Keith topples over with a surprised shout, tumbling onto the gym floor. Lance clutches at his own ribs, because _ holy shit that fucking hurt _ , “I w-win.” Lance wheezes, once again, it was the small victories, “I think you broke one of my ribs b-but I win.” Lance thunks his head on the floor with a whine, “Eat shit.”

 

“You are a whole new kind of s- _ tupid.”  _ Keith hisses through clenched teeth, “Fucking idiot, you don’t even..  _ Ow, this fucking smarts.”  _ Lance wanted to laugh, because really who says ‘smarts’, but his mockery halted when he heard a genuinely pained  _ whimper _ come from Keith.   He turns towards his teammate- who is currently curled into a ball, trembling pale arms crossed over his abdomen and eyes screwed shut in a pained expression. Lance sits up, staring at the other in confusion. Tentatively he reaches a hand out, prodding Keith’s arm gently the immediate reaction of the other teen was a  _ violent _ jerk as if the touch burned him, Lanc pulls his hand away as fast as he can.

 

“Keith,” Lance reaches down towards the other but hesitates in the fear of causing the other pain, “Are you okay?” Keith shakes his head, his head was turned so that Lance couldn’t look at him- a soft noise noise emitted from the others throat. A high pitched whine, Lance feels something tug inside of him, he couldn’t tell if it was fear, concern, guilt, or some ungodly mixture of all three. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I-i’m sorry. I should go g-get Shiro-” He yelps as Keith grabs his arm with a surprisingly strong grip considering the others current physical state. Lance finds himself frozen, staring down at Keith with wide eyes, Keith’s eyes were shock blue with red puffy lining in his sockets- had he been  _ crying _ ? 

 

“No.” Keith croaked, his pink lips trembled as he spoke, “Not your fault... “ He grimaces as he tries to sit up- using Lances arm as a brace as he pushes himself into a sitting position. Keith’s expression was grim and he found himself leaning onto Lance for any form of support. Lance stared at him with grave concern, he had never even thought Keith would ever be this vulnerable, the guy was a genuine maverick. ‘ _ Don’t fuck with me, I can handle this’ _ attitude through and through. The staid guise had been dropped and here was the infernal adversary that had been lurking beneath.

 

“Keith, what’s going on? Where are you hurting?” Keith remained silent, Lance huffs. Why did this bastard always have to be so damn stubborn? He eyed Keith, who was still clutching adamantly at his own rib cage. Lance had an idea, “If you don't tell me, then I’ll just have to find out for myself.” He tore at Keith’s jersey, the boy let out a gurgled cry as Lance yanked the shirt upward and quickly froze.

 

The sight was lurid, patterns of purple and blue, blacks and yellows lined the others abdomen, scars riddled his stomach, deep and unyielding. God, Lance was forestalled by the obviousness that someone of them were  _ fresh _ and bleeding, for that matter. “ _ Dios mio.”  _ Lance whispers, glancing up at Keith- who had grown lachrymose once more- though this time he was not hiding it. “What happened to you?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Tough  _ shit _ , Keith!” Lance blurted, Keith flinches at the uproarious statement and Lance immediately lowers his voice, “I can’t just- how could this, I can’t just let this slide. I’m not that much of an asshole Keith!” Keith constricted, drawing his knees closer inward, Lance lciks his lips in thought- the fingers that still remained tangled in Keith’s shirt was now trembling violently. It made sense, the reason he never saw Keith change in the locker rooms- or how even on the hottest days he would still train with a shirt on, despite everyone else having ditched theirs long ago (excluding Pidge). 

 

“I..” Keith hesitates, “You can’t say anything, promise?” Lance’s heart mired, how could he  _ not _ tell someone, but he also needed to know. He inadvertently began to chew on his own lip. Keith’s whole body was shaking, his fear was evident- from the shaking fingers to the halted breaths- Lance found himself pulling the other closer. He might not be on the most level of terms with Keith, but the poor guy really did need some form of comforting, even if it was Lance’s impromptu awkward hugs.

 

“Promise.” Lance whispers, Keith was looking at him from the corner of his eyes- the doubt in his eyes defusing as he melts into Lance’s touch. His side presses against Lance's, his trembling hands clinging to Lance’s long arms- the snowy paleness held an obviously bold schism compared to his own warm brown hue. That familiar raven hair was falling on his shoulder, the weight of Keith’s cheek pressing against Lance’s bony shoulder- soft but warm breath billowing over his skin, sending a light fluttery feeling through his body.

 

“People don’t like me.” Keith says, his clutch on Lance's arm tightens a moment, “Tends to render any possible rationality, I don’t like to fight back either.” Lance shakes his head, lips puckering in disgust at the idea of Keith being wailed on by some asshole. It was actually borderline  _ impossible _ to picture. Keith, the strong willed son of a bitch who could spike a ball so hard it would pop, the malicious look of determination in his eyes when he served a ball, he could picture that easily… But Keith standing foolhardy as he was battered with diatribe comments and barbarism, shaking and quivering as fists impel upon him- that created bulwark image falling to the floor as he was beat with no mercy. 

 

He simply couldn’t will himself to imagine it.

“Keith, who are those people?” Keith stalled at Lance's words, shaking his head against Lance’s shoulders. As he saw Keith’s shoulders shaking, a steady pace of moving up and down, up and down, he felt that familiar dampness in his uniform- Keith was crying again. Sure, Lance has comforted tons of people before, siblings, compatriots, and hell- even strangers. That experience was all null and void when it came to Keith, his rival, his bitter enemy… his teammate, his (to a begrudging extent)  _ crush _ for god's sake- where could he begin? 

 

Keith’s voice was raspy and quiet, “It’s n-no big deal.”  _ Bullshit _ , “We’re just in a rough patch is all, things will get better. You’ve gotta go through hard times to get to the good times. We have good times, sometimes- too. Really they don’t mean it, just made and need to let it out, that’s all-”

 

“Who are they?” Lance felt sick, the way Keith spoke- as if those all were some small problem, as if it were  _ his own _ fault. Keith fell quiet again, a small shaky mess up occasional sniffles and silent tears. It was unsettling, to say the least, how Keith managed to be so god damned quiet when he cried- as if he weren’t. Lance tossed ideas in his head.  _ Lover? _ Most likely not, Keith corresponded with no one but the team at this school, which also excluded the possibility that it was a friend. Lance’s words were serious and bitter as they left his lips, “Your parents.”

 

Keith’s body went rigid,  _ bingo. _

 

“D-don’t.” Keith sputtered, his words a shaking mess as the conglomerated so many different emotions as they fell past his lips, “Please, Lance.  _ Lance _ , you can’t say a thi-”

 

“To hell I won’t!” Lance barks out, Keith grimaces again his head was shaking back and forth fast, Lance grabs the others cheeks to still the movement- allowing his own voice to soften before he speaks again. “Keith, I can’t let you live like this. Someone needs to know.” 

 

Keith whimpers, “You  _ promised _ .”  _ Fuck, he did _ . “Lance, you can’t say anything, I can’t be taken from a house again- I don’t want to be stuck in an orphanage until i’m 18! No one wants me- it’s all, it’s all I  _ have _ .” His fingers were locked in a bruising grip on Lance’s arm, clinging onto him like a lifeline. Maybe he was one. Lance was torn, absolute ripped to fucking shreds inside. Keith was a wreck, a trembling and destroyed wreck that clung to him like a sobbing child to their mother, bruises blossoming on his side like sickening black roses and sobs racking the others body harshly. It was wrong, it was so skewed and wrong, Lance wanted to scream the most ignoble of things, but he stayed silent as he gently rubbed his thumbs in circles on Keith’s cheeks- slick with salty tears. The dissolution of the man considered to be the paragon of volleyball was happening right before his eyes, and all he could do was internally wage war upon his own morality. And fuck, it was so wrong. 

 

“I don’t know what to do.” Lance whispers, Keith stares at him with prominent pain in his eyes, “I really don’t know what to do.” Keith’s hands were on Lance’s shoulders now, squeezing lightly- no where near the previous life and death grip. His elbows were squirming as he was trying to still his shaking and failing miserably.

 

“Nothing.” Keith begs, “Please do nothing. You hate me yeah? Do nothing.”

 

Lance flinches, the motions of his thumbs stilling mid circle on Keith’s hollow cheeks, “I don’t hate you Keith. I really don’t.” He says quietly and leans forward- allowing his forehead to rest on Keith’s, “I do care though, that’s the problem Keith. I care too fucking much and it hurts.” Keith’s head slightly shifted against his as he nodded, that black hair whipping and dancing across Lance’s skin.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You already are.” Lance replies. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No.” Lance hums, “You shouldn’t be, I should be. For waiting so long, for letting you be alone in that hell for so fucking long.” Lance didn’t know when he began to cry, but he could feel it now- the hot tears running down his cheeks and dribbling off his chin, “I’m sorry, oh my god Keith I’m so sorry, I won’t let you go through this alone.” He was pulling his body closer to Keith’s now, craving some form of human contact to grace upon his miserable and pathetic body, being closer to other people always made him feel so much better- but now the chasm between them seemed to grow deeper no matter how close they got. “ _ I’m so- _ ”

 

Keith pulled Lance to him, the kiss was sloppy- more like their lips were awkwardly squished together- tears mixing as they held their ground. Lance really, not in a million years, would have guessed that this would have been how their first kiss would have gone done- grossly sobbing after learning one of Keith’s secrets, while bother being notable injured (as Lance’s throbbing side kept reminding him)- in the middle of the courts floor. They pulled away, but not by much, Keith’s lips will still brushing Lance’s as he spoke, “Stop, don’t be sorry. You’re here now,  _ you’re here now. _ ”

 

“I won’t leave.” Lance promised, “I’m going to take care of you okay? We’ll figure this out, together.” He presses his lips against Keith’s again, a very chaste but true kiss.Keith leaned forward, allowing the kiss to mean more- Lance’s fingers continued to rub those methodical circles into those soft cheeks and Keith did similar to Lance’s shoulder.

 

The pull away, shallow breaths mingling halfway. Keith left out a mirthful but strained laugh whispering, “I’m a fucking mess.”

 

“ _ We _ are fucking messes.” Lance corrects, Keith blanches, but nods. Lance lightly pats Keith’s cheek- using the length of his fingers to wipe some of those tears away, “Let’s wash up, yeah? I’m pretty sure you don’t want to see the team like this.” Keith nodded, “Though so. Let’s go- maybe I’ll stop by the nurses office and get you an ice pack? That good?”

 

Keith was silent a moment, before he jolted forward. Lance let out an exasperated gasp as Keith pressed light kisses all over his cheeks, sniffling once more and muttering small “Thank you’s.” between each light peck. Lance lightly rubs Keith's shoulders, face burning red from the others actions of affection.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Lance assured, Keith nodded, burying his head in Lance’s shoulder once more and holding him tight. Lance guides the other to his feet, letting the other lean on him for support as they walked. Keith’s fingers were wrapped around Lance’s arm again, tight- like a lifeline. Lance was, in fact, his lifeline at the moment. Keith was afraid, Lance knew he was. Trust was such a shaky subject, so he could only repeat the words he’d said before- as sincere as humanly possible:

 

“I’m not going anywhere…”

 

The fingers loosen, and Lance finds himself smiling as they limp towards the locker rooms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Say Hiya on Tumblr at orianagray.tumblr.com , Instagram @oriana_gray, or twitter @orianagray . 
> 
> Also drop by Chelsea's page and say hello at https://che1sea-xiao-long.tumblr.com/
> 
> Have a lovely day (not daytime? Have a lovely existence ;D), hope you enjoyed!!!


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